


Once Upon A Christmas Morning

by electricwish



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Barebacking, Christmas, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Rimming, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-25
Updated: 2014-12-25
Packaged: 2018-03-03 13:35:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2852660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricwish/pseuds/electricwish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>Instead of lying in bed for hours, unable to sleep and kicking his blankets around the room, Zayn fell in love with the early hours of Christmas morning. Every year, wearing his pyjamas he would quietly sneak outside – out to the garden, the front of his estate, and one year the roof of his house – to breathe in the quiet, the tranquility of the early hours of Christmas morning. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>A little bit of Christmas domesticity and smut for this holiday season.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Once Upon A Christmas Morning

It was always so quiet at this time of the morning.

Zayn Malik took a drag of his cigarette, inhaled it into his lungs, and finally let the smoke swell around him and into the crisp winter cold. It was Christmas morning, just a little after five, and Zayn was keeping up with one of his favourite traditions – albeit a secret, personal one.

Every Christmas morning since he turned fifteen he had woken up far too early. Back then he liked to blame it on the excitement of his sisters, who barely slept a wink knowing that Santa Claus would soon be travelling down the chimney to deliver their most wanted presents – one year that was a Barbie Mini-Kitchen, another year a collection of Bratz Dolls, and a few years later brand new mobile phones. But Zayn knew that his inability to sleep before Christmas had nothing to do with his sisters. It wasn’t a fear that he wouldn’t get something that he wanted, or that he’d get a stack of bad presents.

No, Zayn could never sleep because he was too excited to give. He was far too excited to hand over the presents he had meticulously chosen for his parents and sisters. He would always spend weeks deciding on what they would like – would always set aside an entire day to ensure that his presents were neatly wrapped and tied up with ribbon – and then, when the big day came, he would always sit with pride as they tore open the wrapping paper and beamed with happiness at their gifts.

And so, instead of lying in bed for hours, unable to sleep and kicking his blankets around the room, Zayn fell in love with the early hours of Christmas morning. Every year, wearing his pyjamas he would quietly sneak outside – out to the garden, the front of his estate, and one year even onto the roof of his house – to breathe in the quiet, the tranquillity of the early hours of Christmas morning. There were no cars on the roads, no crowds returning home late from the pubs, no planes flying overhead. Just silence.

In the last few years Zayn had found it more difficult to continue the tradition – mostly because it required leaving the warmth of the bed and the gorgeous sleeping form of his husband sleeping beside him. But, he had kept it up. The excitement to give presents had only increased in the past few years, regardless of the fact that many of the presents he was giving were now left under a pseudonym. Three years ago Zayn had allowed for a large man with a white beard and a red coat to steal all of the credit for his presents.

He smirked around the cigarette. Noah’s arrival three years previous had changed a lot in his life. It had led to a lot of late nights without any sleep, and blowing an enormous amount of money on diapers and bottles and talcum powder. It had made Zayn and Liam change the way their relationship functioned – they had to be a little bit more responsible now that they had a baby to look after – and their sex life was one of the first things that had suffered. Spontaneity was out the window, due to their constant fear of “will the baby wake up?” and “wait, where’s Noah?” – not to mention numerous “don’t touch me, I’m too wrecked” and “I can’t find you attractive with our son’s vomit on your sweater.”

None of that stuff had stopped them last night though, Zayn noted with a smile as he breathed in the cold.

With Noah finally settled down to sleep, Liam and Zayn had quietly maneuvered all of his presents from their bedroom down to the living room, where their Christmas tree stood – a glorious mess of tinsel, baubles and lights that everyone else had laughed at but that the three Maliks eyed proudly. All of the presents had been wrapped in the days and weeks leading up to Christmas, apart from the small tricycle that Noah had been staring at in the toy catalogue since July and which Liam had attempted to wrap with disastrous results (Liam had ended up with three paper cuts and tape in his hair and eyebrows, while Zayn had laughed so hard at his failings that he had tripped over the bike itself and smashed a Santa ornament into little pieces). They had set the presents all around the room, with the trike taking centre stage (and with the smallest helmet Liam could find hanging off of the handlebars).

“A job well done,” Zayn had said, nodding at their work.

Liam _hmm_ d his agreement, staring at Zayn, who had only frowned and thrown him a questioning look as a response. Liam strode towards him, a heat in his eyes, and slid an arm around Zayn’s back to slam their bodies together and bring Zayn in for a kiss, deep and slow and passionate. It had been weeks since Zayn had last kissed Liam like that, a kiss that usually meant that the evening was only headed one way.

Zayn’s tongue flicked into Liam’s mouth with ease, Liam parting his pink lips with a groan deep in his throat. The want was clear in Liam’s kiss, in his hands that roamed up to tangle in Zayn’s hair, grown longer in the winter to keep him warm. It was clear in the way that he jerked his hips forward to rub his clothed erection against Zayn’s waist, needing friction and a release. Zayn slipped a hand down to grope at the hardness, and Liam’s mouth had parted more as he whispered a _please_ that Zayn swallowed with his mouth before leaning back and giving Liam a wink. “Anything for you, babe.”

Liam instantly relaxed, knowing that Zayn was as into this idea as he was, and pulled his Christmas sweater over his head and tossed it behind him, only having a moment before Zayn was on him again, his lips latching onto Liam’s heart-shaped birthmark and sucking at it, biting at it, leaving a mark that Liam would have to cover in the morning with a scarf. _It’s cold_ , Zayn reasoned as he undid Liam's belt and let his pants drop, _he’ll get away with it_.

Liam whipped open Zayn’s cardigan, yanked his dark t-shirt over his head and pushed his husband backwards so that he hit the couch and sat. Liam crawled into his lap and pressed kisses to his neck, biting along the Arabic on his collarbone, and moving down to kiss the ink on his chest – pausing to flick his tongue across a nipple before gently gnawing at it – before slipping onto his knees and dragging his tongue across Zayn’s tight stomach muscles, looking so defined in the light of the Christmas tree. As his tongue mapped out every inch of Zayn’s torso, Liam’s hands snaked into the waistband of Zayn’s jeans and tugged them down, dragging his briefs with them and freeing Zayn’s hard cock while yanking his own underwear down too to free his aching erection.

“This,” Liam grinned, his tongue swiping up along the underside of Zayn’s dick and making him shiver, “needs to be in me soon or I’m going to lose my mind.”

That was enough for Zayn. He lifted himself up off of the couch and flipped Liam around so that he was lying on the floor under the tree like a glorious present for Zayn sent by the gods. Zayn took a moment and admired the curve of Liam’s spine, the fullness of his shoulders, and the pertness of his arse before he dove right in with his tongue, licking, lapping, and probing at Liam’s entrance and loving that Liam was losing control above him, rocking back and up onto Zayn’s tongue and spreading his legs to allow him further access.

“Babe,” Liam panted, shaking his head. “Fuck, babe, yes, so good – fuck – fuck me with your tongue – make me wet, get me – oh, _fuck_ – get me ready for your cock –”

Zayn grinned against Liam’s hole and continued his onslaught with his tongue, loving the taste of sweat and man and _Liam_ that only he knew like this. Only Zayn could make Liam weak, watch him fall apart and know exactly how to put him back together. Only Zayn knew how much of a slave Liam was for his cock, how good he was at riding him in bed and, when the tables were turned, how perfectly Liam fitted inside him like they were made for each other.

“Back up, Li,” Zayn muttered, “on your hands and knees for me.”

Liam followed his directions exactly, and Zayn used this new position to press a wet finger against Liam’s hole and watch as it slowly, carefully, sank inside of him. Liam’s groans were long and deep and drawn out, and Zayn curled his arm around Liam to run a finger up Liam’s cock, feeling the precome already wet and dripping from the tip, before closing his fist on Liam’s long dick and jerking him off with lazy stokes.

Zayn fucked Liam with his finger, timing his motions with the flick of his wrists to drive his husband wild. He teased Liam open with a second finger and watched as his shoulders tensed before falling again with a shaky sigh. Zayn kissed right there, between his shoulder blades, to try and calm him, to reassure him that he’s there and that he has him. “Oh, Liam James Malik,” Zayn purred, “you feel so good. I’m gonna make you feel incredible, babe, gonna make you see stars.”

Liam was nodding, a symphony of _yes, yes, want you in me_ filling the living room. Liam reached out and grabbed his wallet from his pants, plucking out the small sachet of lube that he kept hidden in there for emergencies, and tossing it back to Zayn. “Need you, Zayn,” he growled, and Zayn’s cock twitched.

Zayn ripped the sachet open with his teeth, his fingers still stretching Liam, and applied some of the lube to his own leaking dick while also smearing some to Liam’s entrance. Zayn watched hungrily as his fingers fucked the lube into Liam’s quivering hole before removing them completely and lining himself up to enter him. He knew Liam could use a bit more stretching, but he also knew how impatient Liam was, and how he loved the burn, loved to stretch around Zayn’s cock. That thought encouraged Zayn to push forward with his hips, the head of his cock disappearing into Liam. They both groaned as Zayn inched forward, filling Liam up, until he bottomed out. Zayn gripped Liam’s shoulders in front of him and slid backwards a few inches before bucking up into him and pressing on his prostate, Liam crying out in pleasure.

“You feel amazing, babe,” Zayn gasped, slowly thrusting into Liam. Liam felt so tight around him, his muscles squeezing Zayn’s thick length so hard that Zayn knew that he was leaking precome inside him.

“C’mon, Zayn,” Liam moaned, “fuck me hard. Fuck me like only my husband can.”

Zayn smirked and slammed into Liam, knowing he was desperate for release if he was resorting to dirty talk. He gripped Liam’s hips and thrust into him, hard and fast, and Liam got loud, crying out for _more_ so loudly that Zayn had to cover his mouth in case he woke Noah.

“I need to see you, babe,” Zayn said, and flipped Liam over onto his back. Liam’s eyes bore into him as Zayn re-entered him with ease, slipping inside him with a wet noise from all of the lube. This was how Zayn loved to have sex with Liam, their eyes meeting and their bodies inches apart, with Zayn able to rake his eyes down Liam’s tight, muscled body to settle on Liam’s cock, achingly hard. Zayn took Liam’s cock into his hand and stroked him, Liam throwing his head back and biting down on his lip so hard that he drew blood.

Zayn knew that Liam wouldn’t last long after that. Thrusting hard into him and stroking his cock with fluid stroked, Zayn watched Liam’s world shatter. He gasped, his arms reaching up to grasp at something, anything, and settling on Zayn’s shoulders as he began to chant “fuck, Zayn – too good – oh, fuck, I’m – I’m coming, I’m gonna –”

Zayn watched as every muscle in Liam’s body tightened, his abs and biceps straining as he came with a choked cry, come firing onto his chest and stomach. His hole clenched around Zayn as he did so, and Zayn gasped as he, too, was brought over the edge, releasing deep inside Liam. He continued to thrust weakly into his husband as his cock pulsed, until finally Zayn collapsed on top of Liam, a sticky mess, and kissed him.

But even all that hadn’t been enough to put Zayn Malik to sleep before the arrival of Christmas morning.

Sure, Liam had fallen asleep easily enough after quietly whispering a “good night, love” to a sleeping Noah and softly pressing a kiss to his forehead. Zayn, however, had been awake for hours. He didn’t mind, though. The image of Noah seeing the tricycle first thing in the morning was getting him excited, in addition to all of the thoughts of eventually teaching his son how to cycle a real bicycle, and then, further into the future, how to drive a car.

It struck him that he had been smiling for a long time. Not only the past few hours in the light of a slowly rising sun, but for the past few years. He loved his new, small, young family with all of his heart, and the sight of Liam holding Noah made his heart burst every single day. He had so much to be happy about, so much to look forward to in the future – “Noah could probably use a little brother or sister to play with, don’t you think, Zayn?” – and that was reflected on his face every day.

“Zayn?”

He could hear Liam calling for him inside the house, and he quickly stubbed out the last of his cigarette. He took in the last few seconds of quiet, and turned just in time to see Liam open the kitchen door and look outside. He was only wearing his boxers, and Zayn couldn’t help but feel his cheeks warm at the sight of a bright red hickey on Liam’s neck from last night. Liam rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand and yawned. “Zayn? What'cha doing out here so early?”

Zayn smiled. “Just… Enjoying the silence, Li. Is it time to –”

“Come onnn!” Zayn heard Noah’s high pitched orders from inside and he chuckled softly. “I gotsta see if Santa was here and if Rudolph ate my carrot!”

“Alright, kiddo,” Zayn called, following Liam back inside and giving his husband a quick kiss on the cheek. “Happy Christmas,” he said to him.

Liam smirked. “It won’t be unless we hurry and let him at the Christmas tree. C’mon.”

Zayn had always loved the silence of the early hours of Christmas morning, but he secretly knew that he loved a few things more: the chaos and the noise of gift-exchanging, the ripping of wrapping paper, and the fuzzy feeling in his belly when someone gave him the perfect gift.

Except, he didn’t expect that gift to come from his three year old son.

Noah, his shaggy brown hair sticking up at all angles and his _Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles_ pyjamas already stained with chocolate, shyly handed him a small box that had no doubt been wrapped with a little bit of help from Liam.

“Wow, thank you!” Zayn said, and started to unwrap it. He had expected something childish, maybe a few sweets, but when Zayn unwrapped a small locket with a family photo sitting inside – Liam, Noah and himself laughing back at him – he nearly burst with happiness. His eyes watered and Noah looked at him, concerned. “You… Noah. This is the best present I’ve ever, ever received.” He grabbed the small boy and hugged him tightly. “Thank you.”

“Well, it’s Christmas after all,” Noah replied, matter-of-factly, but Zayn didn’t fail to notice the joy in his eyes. “I like giving you presents,” the three-year old added quietly, returning to his trike.

“Me too, kiddo.” Zayn said, as Liam’s arm curled comfortably around his waist. “Me too.”

  
  



End file.
